Pakistan’s Aafia Siddiqui and the elusive truth in a landscape of politicized narratives

A case that refuses to close reveals how power evades accountability

Originally published on Global Voices

The story of Dr. Aafia Siddiqui, a Pakistani neuroscientist educated in the United States, has remained an open wound for Pakistan for over two decades. Aaafia gained international attention after her 2010 conviction in the United States and is now serving an 86-year prison sentence in Texas for attempted murder and other felonies.

The mystery surrounding her treatment persists because its core facts have never faced transparent, international scrutiny. Instead, the United States and Pakistan offer conflicting narratives regarding her disappearance in 2003 and her reappearance in US custody in 2008. In the gap between these two versions, public trust has drained away.

The 2008 Incident and the US Verdict

The official United States version of events rests on a single afternoon in July 2008. According to court records, Afghan police detained Siddiqui in Ghazni, Afghanistan, allegedly finding documents related to explosives.

During questioning by US personnel, officials claim she grabbed an unsecured M4 rifle and opened fire. No one was hit, but Siddiqui was shot in the torso by US forces during the scuffle. She was subsequently extradited to New York, where a federal jury convicted her in 2010 on charges tied only to that encounter. Notably, she was not convicted of terrorism or membership in Al-Qaeda, but specifically for the attempted murder of US personnel during that encounter. She was sentenced to 86 years in prison.

The disputed timeline: 2003–2008

What the legal record fails to address is the question that defines the case: Where was Siddiqui for five years? Siddiqui testified that she was abducted in Karachi in 2003 by Pakistani security forces and vanished into secret “black site” custody. Her three young children disappeared with her; while one later resurfaced, the fate of the others remains a point of deep contention. Journalists and rights advocates, including those at The Guardian, have argued she was held in unacknowledged detention, possibly at the Bagram Airbase in Afghanistan. Former detainees spoke of a “Grey Lady of Bagram” whose screams haunted the facility, though this connection has never been proven in court or examined by an independent inquiry.

The evidence surrounding that 2008 shooting has long drawn skepticism from independent observers. Forensic reports noted a lack of gunshot residue on Siddiqui’s hands, no fingerprints on the weapon, and no bullet holes or injuries to the alleged targets despite the “close range” nature of the struggle. Amnesty International, which monitored the trial, flagged serious concerns regarding its fairness and the court’s refusal to investigate the “missing years.” While these doubts do not legally overturn the verdict, they highlight the disparity between the thinness of the tested evidence and the extraordinary weight of her nearly century-long sentence.

Pakistan’s complicity and silence

The role of Pakistan sits at the center of this unresolved history. Rights groups, including the Human Rights Commission of Pakistan, have stated there is sufficient evidence to believe Siddiqui and her children were apprehended by Pakistani intelligence agencies in 2003.

Claims frequently surface that she was handed over to the US for “bounty money” — a practice documented by lawyers like Clive Stafford Smith, who noted that elements within Pakistan’s security apparatus profited from “extraordinary renditions” during the height of US financial aid to the region. To date, Pakistan has neither proven these claims nor denied them with evidence. The state exists in a contradiction: it expresses public sympathy for “the daughter of the nation,” while maintaining a tactical silence regarding the specific mechanics of her 2003 disappearance.

Current status and allegations of abuse

The human cost of this unresolved history is visible today. Siddiqui remains held at Federal Medical Center (FMC) Carswell in Texas. Supporters report that she is frequently denied medical care, not allowed to freely practice her religion, and has faced abuse. Her current lawyer, Clive Stafford Smith, has leveled harrowing allegations, stating in late 2023 that she has been subjected to physical and sexual abuse by guards and inmates.

While the US insists the legal matter is settled, the Pakistani judiciary has begun to lose patience with its own government’s inaction. Between July 2025 and early 2026, the Islamabad High Court repeatedly rebuked Pakistani officials for using the case as a symbolic political tool rather than pursuing a sustained legal strategy. The judges questioned why no international forum has been engaged if the state truly believes she was victimized. These questions point inward. Pakistan demands justice abroad while avoiding inquiry at home.

Power versus accountability

The case endures because it exposes how power shields itself. The United States treats the 2010 verdict as the final word, effectively “fencing off” the uncomfortable questions of secret detention. Pakistan treats the case as a political campaign, useful for populist speeches, but too dangerous for actual subpoenas. Neither state has allowed a full accounting of the five missing years. Neither has accepted the risk that the truth might embarrass institutions.

Ultimately, the public is left with fragments: a conviction based on a disputed moment, a vanished decade, and a woman who became a global symbol only because the truth was deemed too embarrassing for the institutions involved to admit. As legal experts like the late Ramsey Clark once noted, the case remains one of the most troubling examples of how the law can be used to obscure, rather than reveal, the truth.

Silence protects power. Inquiry serves the law.